<He told us the visser was due to arrive momentarily,> Ax added. <As if he knew the visser’s habits. As if he were waiting to meet with him.>
<Or maybe to attack him,> Tobias said. <I don’t think we should jump to conclusions. We don’t know anything about the relationship between Gafinilan and Visser Three.>
I laughed. “Yeah, we do. We know enough. We know there is a relationship. That combined with Gafinilan’s telling us to get gone. And, of course, his threat to kill us if we didn’t leave him and his buddy Mertil alone. In my book, if he’s not with us, he’s against us.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s remember he didn’t stay to meet Visser Three. There’s always the possibility that these two Andalites could become part of our team. So, we should keep an eye on this guy. Make sure he’s not working for a Yeerk-run company. Or heading off to the Yeerk pool once every three days.”
“I’m there,” Rachel said.
“I’ll go, too.” Cassie.
“Fine. Ax, what do you know about Gafinilan?” Jake asked.
<His reputation is flawless,> Ax said simply.
“He almost killed you for insulting his friend,” I pointed out. “And he attacked you, a fellow Andalite.”
<He is a warrior, not a diplomat,> Ax replied. Perhaps it was me, but he didn’t sound one-hundred percent convinced of his argument. <I do not think it unusual for a trained soldier, particularly one stranded far from the home world, in a place under invasion by the enemy, to react as he did.>
“With aggression. Okay, then, what’s up with the videotape?” Rachel demanded. “Who took it? How could it have gotten to the show?”
Cassie shrugged. “Lots of possibilities. It could be totally innocent. It might have been taken by some slimy guy out to make some money by selling it to TV. Or to those horrible magazines like the Star or Enquirer. Or some jerk’s idea of a practical joke.”
“Or it might have been taken by Gafinilan,” Rachel said tightly. “Maybe he’s made a deal with the Yeerks. The perfect way to lure the Andalite bandits to certain death.”
“But we’re still alive,” I replied. “So if what you’re suggesting is true, I’m positive we would not be having this conversation.”
<What if Gafinilan isn’t working with the Yeerks?> Tobias said. <What if he had nothing to do with that tape? What if he meant what he said about us leaving him alone? Forgetting about him and Mertil.>
“Too bad,” Jake said dryly. “How often do Andalites come to Earth? We can’t ignore the fact that Gafinilan and Mertil are holed up in suburbia. Our suburbia. We don’t mean them any harm, but we’re going to find out as much as we can.”
“I take it that means we’re going in?” I said. Like I didn’t already know.
“Oh, yeah. Only ‘we’ means you and Ax,” Jake said. “If this guy is a traitor, if he’s with the Yeerks, we don’t want him knowing any more about us than he already does. So, later today Marco as human, which is way too much information already, and Ax as Andalite. He’s seen Tobias but we need him to fly surveillance while you two are inside. You are on a formal visit on behalf of your prince, Ax. The rest of us will back you up. Provide firepower if necessary.”
I grinned. “Just in case he meant that ‘I’ll kill you if you don’t leave me alone’ thing. Thanks, big guy.”
Jake grinned back. “No problem. And when you leave, the rest of us will stay put. Watch where he goes, what he does. See if he contacts the Yeerks. Keep an eye out for Mertil, too.” He turned to Rachel and Cassie. “But first, try to catch Mr. H. McClellan before he leaves the house this morning. Tobias, go with them. When they have to get to school, you take over.”
Tobias lifted from his perch in the rafters. <Sure, Jake. Meet you in the air, ladies.>
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I said to Jake after all the others had left. “Until Ax and I pay a visit to Batman and Robin?”
Jake gave me a pained smile. “Uh, Marco, I think you’ve done enough already. You know, the three of you running off to find this Andalite without telling the rest of us. How about taking it easy for a few hours? Maybe say a prayer, or two? We’re gonna need it.”
I’m not much for prayers and supplication.
Unless, of course, it involves getting a beautiful girl to say “yes” to going out with me. Then, even begging and imploring are options.
<Marco? That you?>
<In the flesh — uh — feathers.>
I’d joined Tobias up above H. McClellan’s neighborhood. Above blocks of two- and three-bedroom ranches and split-levels, roofs and gables all cedar shake triangles and trapezoids. Above a collection of backyard pools, bright blue circles and squares, and front yards uniformly rectangular and green. A typically American kind of geometric pattern. Actually kind of cool from this perspective.
<Why aren’t you in school with the others?> Tobias asked.
<I’m thinking I really don’t want to answer that question. So, what did you find out?>
Tobias coasted into a lazy circle, letting the thermals support him. <Not much. We followed Henry — that’s what the “H” stands for — to the university. Seems he’s an assistant to some academic type. Some professor who works with particle physics. Whatever that is.>
<Ax will know. What else?>
<Well, except for when the guy went to the bathroom, probably to demorph, we pretty much watched him all morning. Cassie and Rachel got inside. Found out it’s the perfect place to demorph. It’s one of those private rooms, frosted windows, one stall. Anyway, he sat at his desk, chatted with some coworkers, ate a donut. Then, Rachel and Cassie went to school. I hung around. At about eleven, Henry got a phone call that seemed to shake him up. Next thing I know, he’s hightailing it home. Unless he morphed something really small and took off again, I think he’s still in there.>
<Or in the greenhouse. I want to get a closer look,> I said.
I glided down, closer to the roof of Henry McClellan’s ranch house. Closer to the large greenhouse that was attached to the house itself by a fifteen-foot-long tunnellike extension.
<Be careful, Marco,> Tobias warned. <He’s gotta be nervous and definitely paranoid.>
<Maybe the call was about Mertil,> Tobias mused as we swooped to about twenty feet above the greenhouse.
<Maybe it was the visser,> I said in a minorly sarcastic voice. <Don’t romanticize this.>
Tobias ignored my remark. <There he is,> he said instead. <In Andalite form.>
Gafinilan was barely visible, even to my osprey eyes, beneath the humid, curved glass of the greenhouse and the proliferation of green stuff growing inside.
<According to Ax,> Tobias explained, <gardening is a very cool hobby for Andalites. It’s an art, really.>
<Great. I’ll be sure to buy him a John Deere riding mower for Christmas. Any sign of Mertil?>
Tobias landed in a huge old oak tree on Mr. Henry McClellan’s property. <Not that I can see. Just Gafinilan pruning some leaves. Or doing something with garden shears. He seems pretty focused.>
<Then I’m going in closer.>
<Uh, Marco, I’m not sure that’s a great idea. What if he looks up?>
<What if he doesn’t?> I countered. <Look, this guy gives me the major willies. I want to know as much as I can before I meet him on his turf.>
<Okay, but …> No buts. I was going to get up close and personal with the roof of the greenhouse.
I glided lower, lower, eyes straining to catch every detail I could when …
ZZZZZAAAAAPPPPP!
<Ahhhh!>
I hadn’t even touched the glass! But a nasty electric jolt sent me toppling over, almost upside down, less than a foot from the glass roof. I righted myself, flapped furiously, desperate not to touch the glass, not even to get as close as I’d come a second before.
<Marco!>
The greenhouse was surrounded by a force field.
Only natural for
Gafinilan to go to any lengths to protect himself.
<Marco! Answer me!>
I couldn’t. The pain was excruciating. My human mind was numb with shock.
Then I flew. Not toward anything, not even away from anything. The osprey’s senses took over and I just flew, up, then down, flapping madly, lost in the pain.
<Marco! What are you doing! Get out of there, now!>
I didn’t see the surveillance cameras pop up from the roof of the house.
Until it was too late.
<Look out! He’s got a shredder!>
Tobias’s cries finally pierced my mindless panic.
I looked back to see Gafinilan’s head and weapon-wielding hands poking through a skylight in the flattish roof of the house.
He held a shredder aimed right at me.
<Surrender!> he bellowed in my head.
I didn’t answer. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, if I kept quiet, he would think I was only some dumb bird.
Not for the first time, I underestimated him.
Tsseeewww!
He fired!
I saw the flash before I felt the pain.
<Aaaggh!>
One of my talons, completely gone.
<That was a warning shot,> he said.
Some warning.
You can’t imagine how disturbing it is to look down and see that one of your body parts is missing. No matter what form you’re in. See the blank space where it used to be. See the blood and gore oozing out of the stump.
<Surrender,> he commanded. <Or die.>
Not much of a choice there.
<Get the others! Find Ax!> I told Tobias privately. <Hurry!>
To Gafinilan: <What do you want me to do?>
He kept the shredder aimed at me. Didn’t seem to see Tobias winging off, or didn’t care.
<Land in the backyard, beside the greenhouse,> he instructed. <Then, demorph.>
<So, my eyes did not deceive me.> Gafinilan stood there, all three gazillion muscled Andalite pounds of him. <When I first saw you it was night, the light was poor … but you are human. Not Andalite.>
I climbed to my feet. No worse for the missing talon. Just a little muddy from rolling around on the ground.
“It looks that way.”
Gafinilan poked the shredder at me like a scolding finger.
<Who gave you the morphing technology?> he demanded.
“What difference does that make?”
<The difference between right and wrong,> Gafinilan shot back. <The Andalite who gave you the power to morph broke the law of Seerow’s Kindness. He is a criminal.>
“The Andalite who gave me the power to morph is dead,” I told him flatly. “And I’m not sure you should be calling anyone else a criminal. You know, let he who is without fault throw the first stone, and all.”
<What are you implying, human?>
Suddenly, I was more mad than scared. “I’m not implying anything. I’m saying it outright. You made some kind of deal with Visser Three. I’m not sure of the details yet, or what you stand to get out of it. But this much I do know: Visser Three is a Yeerk. Now, you Andalites are a smart bunch. You tell me what that makes you.”
SWOOOSH!
My hand flew to my neck. Came away bloody.
Just a little nick. A warning shot.
And then the blade was back at my throat.
<I am no traitor,> Gafinilan said, his thought-speak low and menacing.
<Gafinilan!>
Ax!
Pushing his way through the tall hedges that surrounded McClellan’s property. Tail poised, ready to fight.
<If you are a true Andalite,> Ax said, coming to a stop not ten feet away from where we stood, <you will not harm that human. He is one of us now. A warrior against the Yeerks. Strike him down, and you prove yourself a traitor.>
Gafinilan swung his eye stalks to look at Ax. His main eyes bored into mine.
<You dare to challenge me, little aristh?>
<I do,> Ax replied. <The others in the resistance know we are here. It was my prince who sent us to speak with you.>
Gafinilan did not respond. Not right away. He stood perfectly still, regarding us separately, the expression on his face inscrutable.
<I warned you not to approach me,> he said finally. <Your prince insults me by ignoring my command and sending human children.> Slowly, almost tauntingly, he withdrew his tail blade from my throat. <But I will speak with him or I will speak with no one.>
I stepped back. Felt the stinging skin of my neck and said, “Then I guess this conversation is over.”
I took a step away from Gafinilan. Then another toward Ax.
<No!>
Slowly, I turned my head and looked back at the big Andalite.
And for a split second, thought I saw a trembling race through his massive body. A slight tremor. Maybe I imagined it.
<No,> he said again, his thought-speak more low and calm. <Please. Come inside.>
<Marco? Ax? We’re here. Front and back of the house.>
Jake. Perfect.
“Okay,” I said to Gafinilan. “Let’s talk.”
Gafinilan led Ax and me through a door in the side of the greenhouse’s tunnel-like entranceway. From there, we entered the house itself through a very typical back door, screen and all.
And stepped into a kitchen straight out of Martha Stewart Living or House Beautiful or Architectural Digest. One of those lifestyle magazines my stepmother is always reading.
<Your home is an accurate and attractive example of a human suburban dwelling,> Ax said formally.
<I appreciate your assessment, Aximili,> Gafinilan replied, just as formally. <It has been difficult, learning the many details of human culture. But it is important for Mertil and me to remain as inconspicuous as possible by hiding in plain sight. Although I must admit the relative lowness of this roof is at times disconcerting. Nothing like living under the open sky.>
“That’s a ranch house for you,” I said. “Next time, go for a Cape Cod, at least. Or skylights in every room, not just the kitchen.”
Gafinilan chose to ignore my remark. He led us through the kitchen, a veritable shrine to modern domestic technology. A Sub-Zero fridge. Microwave. Viking cooktop and oven. State-of-the-art Bosch dishwasher. Cuisinart. KitchenAid mixer. And everything was sparkling clean. Nora would have been in heaven. Okay. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time watching that kitchen show on the Food Network.
“Yeah, great kitchen, Gafinilan,” I said. “But it looks like it’s never been used. No dirty dishes in the sink, no dustpan against the wall, no soaking wet dish towels thrown on a counter. No way anyone’s going to believe two guys live here.”
Gafinilan focused his main eyes on me. <Two “guys” do not live here,> he said. <At least as far as other humans are concerned. This house belongs only to a Henry McClellan and he resides alone. He lives quietly. He spends most of his time at his office at the university. He does not have friends. He is what humans call a “loner.”>
Well, that answered that question. Gafinilan led us through several other rooms in the house, each equally pristine, each obviously unused. I mean, white carpeting? Pink silk upholstery? For two guys with muddy hooves and no ability to sit?
Clearly, Mertil and Gafinilan actually lived somewhere else in the house.
The only disturbingly out-of-place items in the otherwise perfect house were a few pieces of artwork, obviously bought at some starving artist sale set up along a highway. You know, paintings on black velvet, sold from the trunk of an old Cadillac. There were the requisite seascapes and even a sad-eyed clown.
Before I could ask where the crying Elvis was hung, Gafinilan led us back to the kitchen. On the far wall was a keypad. The Andalite’s massive shoulders blocked our view of it as he punched in the code. A concealed door to the left of the pad slid open.
<Please. These are our private quarters.>
In semiprivate thought-speak, Ax let Jake know our position. That we were entering a concealed
part of the house. That he and the others should be ready to come at our call.
Then Ax and I stepped forward. I whistled. It was a mini Andalite home-away-from-home.
<Mertil and I were fortunate to have salvaged many things after the crash,> Gafinilan explained. <Most important, a good power supply and a force field generator. The latter is particularly necessary for our survival.>
I smiled wryly. “You don’t say.”
Computer stations. More than half a dozen of them. Each screen running a different program, none of which looked familiar to me at first glance.
Several large-screen TVs. Each on and tuned to a different news program. Everything from Hollywood Style Report to CNN to the Bloomberg Report.
The floor was covered in lush, well-tended grass. No chairs, but a long, fairly high table on which lay various handheld weapons.
The walls were painted a creamy color. The ceiling, sky-blue. There seemed to be no other rooms beyond or off this large one. There might have been, of course. There might have been another secret sliding panel. There probably was.
Because we did not see Mertil.
<War Prince Gafinilan, I would like to understand why you seem to have no interest in joining our fight against Yeerk domination.>
And things had been going so well.
But instead of watching Ax’s head roll across the grassy floor, I watched the expression in Gafinilan’s face mutate from fury to despair to a typical Andalite inscrutability. All in the space of a few seconds.
<Very well, young Aximili,> he said, slouching slightly into a more relaxed, less angry pose. <Perhaps you will find my story an unlikely one, but it is true. And it is mine. As I have told you,> he went on, <at one time, not so long ago, I was engaged in the war against the Yeerks. Assigned to the Dome ship’s forces, as was your esteemed brother, Elfangor.>
<Yes.>
<Mertil and I were fighter pilots. We came up through the academy together and each earned a reputation for excellence and bravery. However, no one is immune to the vagaries of war. During the battle with the Blade ship, the battle that destroyed the Dome ship, my fighter was hit and the main engine was destroyed. Almost immediately I lost control and slammed into Mertil’s already damaged fighter. Our wings somehow locked and, as one, the ships spiraled to the ground. I was sure we would both be killed.>